It was me in there( 9-1-1 )

Processing

The drive back home was stiflingly silent. The truck's low rumble was the only sound, filling the space between Eddie and Buck like a heavy fog. Eddie's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced over at Buck, whose chest was rising and falling far too quickly. His hands shook in his lap, clenching and unclenching as though fighting an invisible battle.

Eddie's concern grew with every mile. Buck wasn't just rattled; he was unraveling. His eyes were unfocused, darting toward the window and then back to his trembling hands. Every so often, he let out a shallow gasp, a sound that cut through Eddie like a blade.

By the time Eddie pulled into the driveway, Buck was already fumbling with his seatbelt, practically tumbling out of the truck as soon as it came to a stop.

"Buck," Eddie called, stepping out quickly. "Wait—"

But Buck didn't stop. He paced the yard like a caged animal, his fingers clawing at his hair. His breaths came in sharp, audible bursts, and his muttering—barely audible—seemed like a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Eddie approached cautiously, his own chest tightening at the sight of Buck's unraveling. "Hey, Buck, let's get inside, okay?"

Buck stopped mid-step, spinning to face Eddie with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I can't—I can't, Eddie. It's too much. It's all too much."

His voice cracked, and Eddie's heart shattered.

"I know," Eddie said softly, reaching out a hand. "But it'll be easier to breathe inside. Just take one step at a time with me, alright?"

For a moment, Buck hesitated, his body trembling with pent-up energy. Then, with a shaky nod, he followed Eddie to the door, though his movements were jerky and hesitant.

Once inside, Buck collapsed onto the couch, but even then, he couldn't sit still. His knees bounced uncontrollably, his fingers drummed against the fabric of his jeans, and his eyes darted around the room as though searching for an escape.

Eddie sat beside him, careful not to invade his space but close enough to offer comfort. "Buck, can you tell me what's going on?" he asked gently.

Buck's hands shot to his head, clutching at his hair as though trying to hold his mind together. "It's everything," he said, his voice rising in pitch. "The house, the smell, the blood... God, Eddie, the blood was still there. It's like it was frozen in time, waiting for me to walk in and remember every awful thing that happened there."

His breath hitched, and Eddie watched as his composure crumbled further.

"And the phone!" Buck continued, his voice breaking. "It was still there, just sitting there like she was going to call any second and yell at me for something. It's—it's like the house is stuck in the past, Eddie, and it dragged me back with it."

Buck's words came in a frantic rush, his hands now clawing at the couch cushions as though trying to find an anchor. His eyes brimmed with tears that he refused to let fall, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep it together.

Eddie reached out, placing a steady hand on Buck's knee. "Hey," he said, his voice steady. "You're not in that house anymore. You're here, with me, and you're safe."

Buck shook his head violently. "I don't feel safe, Eddie. I feel like my head is going to explode. Everything's too loud, too bright. I can't—I can't turn it off."

Eddie's stomach twisted. He knew Buck was prone to overthinking, but this was something else entirely. "Buck, take a deep breath for me," he said, his tone soothing.

But Buck's breaths only grew shorter, more erratic. He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking slightly as he muttered under his breath. "It's too much. I'm too much. I've always been too much."

The self-deprecation in Buck's tone was like a punch to Eddie's gut. He moved closer, his hand now resting firmly on Buck's shoulder. "That's not true," Eddie said firmly. "You're not too much, Buck. You're just... overwhelmed right now. That doesn't make you too much."

Buck let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down his face now. "You don't get it, Eddie. I've felt like this my whole life. At school, I couldn't sit still. I'd get in trouble for fidgeting or not paying attention. My parents—they just thought I was lazy or disobedient. They didn't care to understand."

Eddie felt a surge of anger at the mention of Buck's parents but pushed it aside, focusing on the man in front of him. "You weren't lazy," he said firmly. "And you're not disobedient. You're... you're Buck. And that's enough."

Buck shook his head, his hands gripping the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white. "It's not enough, Eddie. I've tried so hard to be normal, but I can't. My brain just... doesn't work like everyone else's. I get overwhelmed, I shut down, and then I feel like a failure."

"You're not a failure," Eddie said, his voice breaking slightly. "You're one of the strongest people I know. But even the strongest people need help sometimes."

Buck looked at him, his tear-streaked face filled with doubt. "Help? Like what? Therapy can only do so much."

Eddie hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Have you talked to your therapist about ADHD? About how you feel when you get overstimulated like this?"

Buck's brow furrowed. "I've mentioned feeling restless, but we haven't really talked about ADHD. I don't even know if that's what this is."

"It sounds like it to me," Eddie said gently. "And it's not a bad thing, Buck. It's just a part of who you are. But maybe talking to your therapist about it could help. They might have ways to make this... easier to handle."

Buck's shoulders slumped, and he wiped at his eyes. "I just don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to be... broken."

Eddie's heart broke at the word. He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Buck's shoulders and pulling him into a hug. "You're not broken," he whispered. "You're human. And you're loved, Buck. By me, by Christopher, by the team—by everyone who's lucky enough to know you."

Buck let out a shaky breath, leaning into Eddie's embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You'll never have to find out," Eddie replied, holding him tighter.

They sat there for a long time, Buck slowly finding his breath as Eddie held him